


Girl to Bat

by AnnaStachia



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaStachia/pseuds/AnnaStachia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Barbara Gordon is orphaned after her father's untimely death and her mother's abandonment, she's taken in by Bruce Wayne. But the Wayne family has a secret, and when Barbara discovers that secret she takes matters into her own hands. Unfortunately she gets more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girl to Bat

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as part of a Dick/Babs writing challenge, but rereading this one, I liked where it went, without actually adding in the romance. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The day Bruce Wayne adopts her, Barbara’s life changes forever. She’s ten years old, and her father was killed in a firefight against the new gang in town belonging to the Penguin. Her parents had already been in the process of getting a divorce, and when James Gordon died her mother handle it. She left Barbara and her brother James, and fled to her mothers. 

Her brother loses it as well. They spend a week in state care with a sympathetic foster family. Two days in James attacks one of the older boys there. He claims it was provoked, but Barbara knows better. Two days later the family dog is found dead in the driveway and upon searching each kids bed they find rat poison in his. Two days after that James is sent to a special juvenile home for troubled kids. Barbara feels relieved. The next day Bruce comes for her.

He sits her down and talks to her. She’s quiet, observant, mistrusting. Her father is dead, her mother abandoned her, and her brother is psychopath. He explains that he knows how difficult this must be, and that nothing anyone says can make it better no matter how much they try. He tells her that James Gordon was a good friend of his and he wishes he could have done something to save him. Barbara doesn’t know what Bruce Wayne thinks he can do to save a cop. 

She listens to everything he has to say and finds that she appreciates that he talks to her like an adult. He doesn’t offer her niceties or empty words of comfort. He doesn’t speak to her like she’s a fragile glass figure that’s going to break at any moment. He’s real, and genuine, straightforward.

At the end of his visit, he asks if she might want to come stay with him, then corrects himself, live with him. He tells her that he can’t and won’t replace her father, but perhaps he can give her a nice, safe home to live in. The word safe sticks with her and she thinks of her brother and what he did to this family, and the way the other kids look at her since she’s related to him. She accepts his offer, the first words she’s spoken to him the whole time. 

The next day the paperwork is taken care of and Bruce Wayne officially becomes her guardian. He helps her pack up what little stuff she has, and leave, they go home. 

That’s where she first meets Dick Grayson, the loudmouthed twelve year, who she soon learns was also adopted by Bruce when his parents were killed. He’s quick to introduce himself and show her around the manor so she can see all his favorite spots. Immediately she knows he’s different from James. When he smiles, she can see it light up his eyes, and he takes her hand as he leads her around.

And she knows, this is what a family is. People who care about you unconditionally, who don’t see you as an obligation, as a distraction. People who look at you with love and understanding, not indifference or sorrow. For the first time in her life, Barbara knows everything is going to be okay.

\-- -- --

She’s thirteen when she learns the “family secret”, and she hates that it took her so long. Knowing now, she can put together all the signs over the years. Each piece of the puzzle she puts together feels like a stab of betrayal. She’d found people she could trust and love, and it turns out they have been lying to her the entire time. 

All the sneaking around and late nights, the fact that Dick was never asleep in his room when she had a nightmare and wanted to crawl into bed with him, like he used to let her when she first moved in. 

It’s Dick that she catches one night, while getting a glass of midnight water. He walks so quietly down the stairs that she can’t hear him at all, and almost gasps when she catches sight of his figure barely illuminated by the moonlight through the tall windows. She manages to keep quiet and follows him down the stairs, avoiding the places where the floor creaks. He taught her where they were one afternoon, and they made a game of it, she had to make it all the way down the stairs without him knowing. She silently thanks him for it now, it makes him easier to follow. 

He stops on the first floor in one of the sudies in front of an ornate old grandfather clock. She remembers asking Bruce about it once, finding it peculiar, because it doesn’t work. The clock always reads twelve o’clock and the hands never move. Bruce explained it was an old heirloom that once belonged to his great great grandfather, and that it stopped working before he was born. 

She watches as Dick carefully opens up the glass face. He looks around him, and she ducks behind the door and holds her breath. He doesn’t see her. He moves the hands on the clock and she squints to see what it reads. The clock swings in before she can get a good read on it, and Dick disappears into a dark tunnel. The clock swings shut behind him. 

For a minute Barbara just stands there, stunned. There’s a secret tunnel inside the house. Then she sets her jaw. There’s a secret tunnel inside the house and Dick never bothered to tell her about it. At one point, she thought he had told her every secret about the house, including the secret closet inside the pantry that led to one of rec rooms. 

She marches over to the clock, already set back at twelve and studies it. All she could see was that it was set to ten something in the last quarter hour. She tries 10:45 to no avail. 10:50 doesn’t work either, and neither does fifty-five. Which means it’s not on a five. So she goes one by one starting at the fifteen ‘till mark, and only needs to move the hand twice before the clock opens for her. 

She hesitates, only a moment, before stepping into the dark tunnel. It’s not like she expects, creaky wood and dusty cobwebs. It’s stone and dank, open. She makes her way slowly down the incline until the tunnel opens up into a moderately lit cavern of huge proportions. Her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight. A large computer terminal too complex for her to fathom takes up only a small fraction of the cave. A small museum takes up another part. 

Then her eyes catch sight of Dick, fixing a green mask to his face, wearing a familiar costume. She’s seen it in the tabloids, and newspapers. 

Robin. 

As in Batman and Robin.

Suddenly she finds it hard to breathe, and she turns, running for the exit. It’s all too much. Dick is Robin, and Bruce Wayne is Batman, the caped crusader, the dark knight, Gotham’s hero. The man who didn’t save her father.

Everything comes rushing at her all at once. The family she knows, this secret, all the lies they must have told her, all the clues she should have put together a long time ago. All the things she’s ever said about Batman and how he’s overrated. Bruce’s critical look, and small smile, Dick’s adamant defense of the dynamic duo. 

She stumbles back into the study, falling to her knees, and gulping in air like she might never breathe again. Alfred stands in front of her, wearing a small frown. He leans down, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Breathe slowly now Miss Barbara. It’s a lot to take in.” His voice is a familiar comfort, soothing. His words are not. 

She takes his advice, evening out her breathing the way Dick showed her when she asked him about meditating once. It helps almost instantly. 

Alfred rubs her back as she calms down, then helps her stand. He doesn’t say much, or accuse her of anything, just leads her back to her room and fetches her a glass of water. She thanks him.

Before he walks away she asks, “Can you not tell Bruce about tonight? Or Dick. I… I want to tell them myself.”

He studies her for a long moment, and a part of her wonders not for the first time if he can read her mind. He’s always had that piercing stare, and knowing way about him. 

Finally he nods and she retreats to her bed, downing the water. She has no plans to tell Bruce or Dick that she learned their secret. What right do they have to know when they won’t tell her. It’s petty, and she knows that in the back of her mind, but she doesn’t care. 

She spends the next couple of days after school cooped up in her room working on a “secret project”. Dick’s come by a couple times bugging her to keep him company, and complaining of boredom, and each time she’s dismissed him. 

She sees the looks of disappointment on his face at dinner and tries to pretend it doesn’t bother her. She hates to see him look unhappy. She knew the moment she met Dick, that a smile always belonged on his boyish face, and light in his eyes. Now she was the one taking that light away. She reminds herself that it serves him right and tries to forget the ache in her chest. 

The next day she finishes it. A costume, a bit low-grade, but a costume none the less. One of her ballet leotards, now with the familiar bat symbol sewn onto the chest. She remembers the symbol from her childhood. Her dad once took her up onto the roof of the station when she was seven. He showed her the light they used to signal Batman, to let him know there were bad guys out there. He used to draw it sometimes at home. She still has one of those drawings with her old keepsakes. 

From an old sheet she fashioned herself a cape, and the mask had been the difficult part. At first she wanted it to be a cowl like Batman’s, but she couldn’t figure out how make it, so she stuck with a plain old eye mask, more like Robin’s. 

She sneaks out that night, wearing the costume, hair tied up, and feeling ultimately incredibly silly. It’s a little ways into the city, so she takes her bike. She doesn’t have a Bat-mobile, or jet, or toolbelt full of gadgets to get around. She’s overtly aware that she must be the stupidest looking superhero anyone has ever seen. 

She manages to find her way onto the rooftop of an old Chinese restaurant in the international district, known for it’s gangs and robberies. The cool wind blows on her face. She lifts her head to it, letting a smile cross her face, and imagines swinging through the city, across rooftops in pursuit of villains. It must be a thrill. 

The sound of people below catches her attention and she drops down to peer over the edge of the building. A group of thugs comes into the clearing, carrying crates full of something. There are five of them all together, and three crates. Two of them wear sunglasses in the dark. Barbara rolls her eyes at how tacky that is.

They set the crates down, and one man, the leader, sneers at how lucky they got, and how with this shipment they can complete the job tomorrow night. Two men high-five. Definitely bad guys, she confirms. 

With a deep breath she stands up, putting one foot up on the ledge. “Hey!” she shouts at them, and they all turn to look at her. 

For a moment she freezes, eyes wide. These are bad guys, bad people, who do bad things, and she just challenged them. She, a thirteen year old girl with no crime fighting experience, wearing the bat symbol on her chest like a neon target. She realizes at that moment exactly how stupid she is. 

Too late now. She goes on. “Think you can get away with it, scumbags.” She has no idea what she’s saying.

“Is that Batman?” one of the thugs asks

“That’s a girl you moron!” the leader yells, smacking said moron on the back of the head. 

“The names Batgirl.” Barbara announces, “And I’m here to stop you.”

This is the part where Batman would jump off the building in front of them. She glances around her surroundings and sees a garbage container below her. Closing her eyes, she calls on her gymnastics and ballet experience to pull her through. She leaps off the roof, and lands on the lid of the trash can, bending her knees. The impact hits her harder than expected, and she loses her balance, falling sideways, and off the container. The thugs laugh. 

“More like Batbaby!” one of them crows, pointing. 

She climbs to her feet, gritting her teeth. She twisted her ankle and she can feel it, but there’s no time to think about that now. Dick taught her some basic fighting moves once, self defense he called it. She slid back into a fighting position, trying to keep her weight off her bad ankle. 

“Take her out.” The leader calls, kicking the lid off one of the crates.

When Barbara sees what is inside she starts rethinking this whole thing. Suddenly it’s more than just her against five guys. It’s her against five guys and boxes full of guns. Guns, like the ones that killed her father. Like the ones that killed Bruce’s parents. 

She wants to cry. She wants to go home and hide in her bed. She wants Alfred to make her tea, and Bruce to check in on her with his small smile before she goes to sleep. She wants Dick to sit with her and hold her hand while she shakes in terror, or to smile and laugh at her as he makes jokes. She wants to see them again, just one more time - so she can apologize and tell them that she loves them. Thank them for giving her everything.

It’s too late for all of that now. Her anger, and her recklessness are going to get her killed. She’ll never see them again, her family. She’s going to die an idiot hero, like her mom always used to call her dad when she was angry. 

She closes her eyes as they all grab for the guns. This is it. One loud shot, and the tears flow freely down her face. There’s no more acting tough, not when it’s all over. 

But nothing happens. There’s no pain, no sharp feeling of loss. Her world doesn’t fade to emptiness and she’s still standing. Slowly she opens her eyes to see Robin, spinning a kick into one man’s gut, and his elbow into the moron’s face. More shots ring out, but they are aimed at him, not her. He dodges bullets with a laugh and a taunt, and she thinks that he’s outnumbered. He needs help, and Batman doesn’t seem to be around. 

Wiping underneath the mask, she picks up a piece of plywood on the ground and runs at the nearest guy, letting out an animalistic shout. The wood connects with his head, and he falls forward. She brings it down again, to make sure he stays down. A bullet hits the wall right behind her and she yelps, ducking and punching the next things that comes near her. Her fist meets bone with a crack, and she’s not sure if it’s from her or them. Her fingers explode in pain. 

“Whoa, who’re you?” Robin asks, coming up beside her to take her wrist. 

One look and he knows. She can see it in his wide eyes behind the mask. She tries to look apologetic, but then the leader of the thugs is coming up behind Robin, and she shrieks a warning. Quick as lightning he spins and sends a series of punches to the man’s face, eventually knocking him backward. Barbara wonders how she never noticed his muscles before. 

She’s too distracted watching him that she doesn’t see the man behind her, until he’s gets one of his beefy arms around her her, pinning her arms at her side. She yells, struggling against him. 

Robin drops the leader, kicking his gun away, and knocking him out. He turns at her yell, and stops. She tries to jerk free, but his grip is too strong. 

“Lookit that.” The thug call out smugly. She recognizes his voice as the moron. “So much for your Batgirl here. Now I’ve got leve….levelrage… blackmail material.” It’s not the word he’s looking for, but she’s not about to give him the right one. 

“Look, big guy, let her go, and you can walk away from here.” Robin holds up his hands, a sign of surrender. Barbara wants to cry again. He shouldn’t have to do this because of her. 

“You can’t let him go.” She tells him, voice strained, because really, she wants to be let go. She wants nothing more to run into Dick’s arms and have him wrap her up tight. 

“Shut up, _Batgirl_.” He grits his teeth on the title, and she can tell he hates having to use it. “Look, I’m serious. If you let her go, I walk away, with her, and I don’t call the police. You go free, you all go free. I just… Please.”

He’s begging and she hates it. The pleading, desperate tone of his voice, the pained look on his face. She caused that, and she can do nothing to fix it, to make it better. She can’t make his pain go away, the way he always has for her. Even worse, the bad guys going to get away, because of her selfish recklessness.

As luck would have it she doesn’t have to fix it, because someone else is there to. A Batarang soars through the air, and across the big man’s arm, slicing along it. He yells and lets her go, pushing her away. She falls to the ground, but picks herself up immediately, making a beeline for Dick. He grabs her up, but doesn’t pull her to his chest. 

A blackness flies over their heads, and a second later Batman is standing there, tall and dark, and as frightening as the bad guys make him out to be. She shivers at the sight of him, knowing the legend, and knowing the man. 

“Don’t look away.” Dick whispers in her ear, and she doesn’t as much as she wants to just bury her face in his chest and sob. 

Batman knocks the man unconscious with little effort, then turns his gaze on them. His eyes narrow as they find her. His look drops briefly to the bat on her chest, and she tries feebly to cover it up. Dick doesn’t let her. She feels another small stab of betrayal, but immediately lets it go. She deserves this. She deserves to be sent back into foster care, or maybe the juvie home with her brother. 

“Take her home. Now.” Is all he says. It’s quiet and short, and that’s how she knows he’s really mad. 

Dick doesn’t argue. He takes her by the wrist and drags her away. 

The ride home is silent. It turns out Dick has a motorbike for transportation. She holds onto him as they zip through the night, and cries into his back. By the time they are back in the cave her tears are dry. 

He yells at her first. Calling her crazy, insane, suicidal. She takes it, at least at first, flinching at every truth he slings her way. He takes off the mask at some point and lets it fall to the floor, running shaking hands through his wind mussed hair. Then he starts in on the stupid, idiotic, and moronic insults and she feels her anger flare back up. 

She turns on him then accusing him of lying to her, of keeping secrets. Tells him how she trusted them, trusted him when she had no one else to trust, when everyone else had betrayed her and this is what she gets in return. What she did was stupid, but it was her way of retaliating. 

He looks stunned at first, then angry again. About how retaliating should never put her life in danger, and they kept their secrets for a reason.

The yelling stops when Bruce comes back, artfully driving the Bat-mobile into the cave and parking it with a screeching halt. He gets out, and stalks over to her, looking her over. Her eyes are red and puffy, her whole body shaking. Still she manages to look him in the eye. He taught her that, always look people in the eye, even when you don’t feel like you can, especially when you don’t feel like you can. She feels as if she can never look any of them in the face again, so she lifts her head and meets his gaze. 

“Never. Do that. Again.”

He turns away, and hunches over the computer terminal, punching in something on the keypad. Barbara breathes and then feels her whole world spin. Dick catches her as she falls. 

One week later she starts training. 

\--


End file.
